Smoke and Mirrors
by Veronica Violet
Summary: Late season six AU. When Spike said, "Make me what I was" the Powers took his chip away like he wanted - but also his memories of Buffy. When Angel finds Spike, he brings him to Buffy, knowing they've been working together for the last few years. But when they get there, Spike's been disinvited, Tara seems to hate him, and Buffy's more emotionally withdrawn as ever. What did he do?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is totally canon until Entropy, where the others didn't find out about Buffy and Spike's affair. Only Tara (who is not dead) knows. Tara is also the one who found Buffy after the attempted rape scene, and is the only one who knows about that, too.**

**_My memory refused to separate the lies from truth_**

**_And search the past my mind created_**

**_I kept on pushing though_**

**_Standing resolute, which you_**

**_In equal measure loved and hated_**

**_-Warrior, Beth Crowley_**

Spike had a headache. A major, throbbing, Dru-just-left-me-again-and-I-spent-the-last-week-getting-beyond-wasted-and-now-I'm-hungover-as-hell kind of headache. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably what had happened, considering he wasn't injured and was lying alone in a bar.

Stumbling towards the back, he was gratified to find a large pile of blood bags. Demon bar, thank God.

After drinking his fill, he took stock of his surroundings. It was your typical somewhat grungy bar, the only unusual aspect being that other than him, it was entirely empty. Strange, considering it was the middle of the night. Perhaps someone recognized him and everyone had cleared out least he go on one of his famed killing sprees. It'd happened before.

Figuring he'd see what date it was, he picked up a nearby newspaper. He'd known it must've been a while, considering the last thing he remembered clearly was finding out the most recent slayer was dead - The novice had barely lasted a year - but that in no way prepared him for the date on top of the paper.

September 4, 2002

_What the hell?_ That... there was a mistake. It was only 1995! Dru was messing with him, or someone else was. That had to be it. There was no way he'd lost seven years. It just wasn't possible...

Snatching the paper up, he headed to the door. He needed to find his Dark Princess, and figure out what the hell was going on.

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It had taken two weeks, but he'd finally tracked down Dru. Who, apparently, was healthy again. Still insane, of course, but physically healthy. She was in Paris, feasting on tourists and using her thrall to keep anyone from asking questions. Smart girl. He felt a pang of resentment when he saw how well she was doing. So, why, exactly, did I dedicate my life to you, if you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself?

He quickly pushed the thought aside. She was his everything, and it didn't matter if she could take care of herself, because he was here to do it for her.

So he strode towards the seemingly abandoned manor, and ignored the voice in his head - which sounded oddly like a teenage girl - rolling its eyes and informing him how whipped he was.

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"Dru?"

Standing in the doorway to the parlor, he could only see the back of the woman, but it was her. Long dark hair swept over the back of her full-length red dress.

Turning, Spike was shocked to see surprise written across her normally vacant face. "William?"

"What's going on?"

"I don't know what you mean, William. Everything that has happened, you wanted. You did it," she replied dreamily, floating towards him.

"I'm pretty bloody well sure I didn't ask to forget the last seven years, Dru."

"Forgot?" she murmured to herself. Suddenly she started laughing, "Forgot his sunshine," as suddenly as her humor had started it stopped, and she slapped him as hard as she could. "Bad William! Bad, cruel William for treating his princesses this way, leaving and forgetting."

Spike stared at her. "I've got no clue what you're on about."

Her eerie calm was back, "I know what you did. You should know too. Shouldn't feel guilty, shouldn't care. It's wrong. You're wrong. Daddy was right. You came back too human..." she giggled, "One too human, one not human enough."

Spike just stared, bewildered.

"You deserve one another. Go back to the sunshine," Drusilla commanded, turning her back on him.

"Look, I don't know what happened, but -"

"Go! You're nothing but ashes still!" Drusilla screamed.

Spike went. She could manage without him, and he clearly needed to figure out what he'd done the past seven years.

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Spike was frustrated. He'd hunted down every contact he could think of, and all of them had refused to tell him anything. The most he'd gotten was; "Look, I don't know what happened between you two, but she scares me a lot more than you. I don't want to get on her radar."

The demon in question then refused to say who "she" was, other than not Dru. Spike killed him.

So as much as he hated to admit it, that left only one option. And he really, really hated to admit it.

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He could tell it was empty, so he strolled into Angelus's apartment without knocking. Although he probably wouldn't have knocked even if Angelus had been home. Or Angel, ever since the pathetic wanker had gone and gotten himself cursed with a soul. That still made Spike laugh. If he knew one person less angelic than himself, it would be his good for nothing grandsire. Although the git probably didn't even realize how ironic his own name was.

Spike was somewhat surprised when half an hour after he arrived he sensed Angel approaching. He'd assumed that he wouldn't be back until nearly dawn.

As soon as he walked through the door, Spike drawled, "The city of angels? Really?"

"Spike?" the older vampire sounded worried. "Why are you here?"

"Nice to see you too, grandpops."

"I'm serious Spike. What's going on?"

The blond strolled towards him. "See, I'm wonderin' the same thing myself. One minute I'm hearing about the latest slayer kickin' it, next thing you know, it's seven years later. So my question, what the bloody hell happened?"

Angel had gone very still. "The last seven years? You remember nothing."

"Give the vamp a prize."

"And you came here?"

"No, I went everywhere but here, but none of my contacts will tell me anything and Dru just yells about sunshine and ashes, crazy bint. And then I came here."

Angel walked past him. "And have you been feeding off of humans?" he asked warily.

Spike stared at him incredulously. "Well, duh."

"Damn it," Angel muttered. Spike was about to ask what he was on about when his fist flew towards him and everything went black.

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When Spike woke up, he was lying in the back of a fancy black car with tinted windows. Reaching for the door, he stopped when Angel called from the front, "I wouldn't, unless you want to dust. It's nearly noon."

"Where are we going?"

"Sunnydale." At Spikes blank look, he elaborated, "the California Hellmouth."

"Why?"

"To see a slayer about a chip and some memories."

Whatever that meant.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Tomorrow_**

**_Tomorrow, as they say_**

**_Another working day and another chore_**

**_Tomorrow_**

**_An awful price to pay_**

**_I gave up yesterday_**

**_But they still want more_**

**_\- Tomorrow, Bugsy Malone_**

_Tomorrow is always a day away. It's rather depressing, if you think about it._

_Tomorrow, I'll say, "I'm fine," and I won't add,"that's what you want me to say, right?"_

_Tomorrow, I'll go to work and help people, and I won't ask who's supposed to help me._

_Tomorrow, I'll be the perfect sister, and Dawnie won't worry about me anymore._

_Tomorrow, I'll be a caring friend, and they'll know I don't blame them for the way I am._

_Tomorrow, I'll go dancing, and I'll flirt and laugh and won't think about him._

_Tomorrow, I won't cry, even if I want to._

_Tomorrow, I'll be happy._

_Tomorrow will be just like today._

_But maybe tomorrow, it won't all be an act._

Sighing, Buffy closed the diary. Tara had suggested she start keeping it after The Incident - the one she didn't talk about, ever, to anyone - and although it was effective in making her feel something, that something was almost always hopelessness and depression.

Glancing at the clock, which read 5:45, she rolled out of bed and walked into the shower. As she stood under the warm spray, she thought of what she needed to do that day. Make Dawn breakfast, and pack her lunch, get them both to school on time. Work as a counselor until three, finish any paperwork she had, go home, probably save the world, make dinner, patrol, go to night class. Now that she had a proper job, she was earning enough to enroll in the local community college as well as keep the house. For a while there, she'd thought they'd have to sell it.

She dried off and got dressed in her "professional" clothes - a tight cream miniskirt, a matching cream blazer that was ultra fitted and ultra cropped with three-quarter length sleeves, shiny black pumps and silky violet camisole. Top it off with her favorite cross, the plain silver one Giles gave her, and on to hair and make up.

She blow dried her hair, which had grown out since she got it cut off last year, and pulled it up into a French twist, leaving a few tendrils hanging around her face. She kept her make up light, just mascara and glossy pink lipstick. And, of course, just enough foundation to hide the tired bags under her eyes that were her constant accessories these days.

Holding her shoes in one hand, she quietly slipped downstairs, doing her best not to wake anyone. She put the student files she'd been looking at yesterday in her bag and made Dawns lunch. Buffy then started frying sausage and bacon, and before long Dawn wandered into the kitchen. "That smells good," she remarked.

"Go get dressed," Buffy commanded, "It'll be ready by the time you get back."

Dawn grinned. "You sound like mom. It's nice. And a little weird."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Go get dressed or I'll throw out your breakfast."

"And there she is," Dawn replied. In a quieter voice she added, "I'm glad you're better. You are, aren't you? You're happy?"

"Yeah," her heart breaking a bit at the lie, she murmured, "I'm happy."

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Teenagers were frustrating. Buffy knew this. Hell, for the past year she'd been raising a fifteen year old almost single handedly. But there were days when her job made her want to scream. Half the kids who came to see her just wanted a to get out of class, the other half said they wanted to talk to her but wouldn't tell her anything, and the other half were only there because a teacher sent them. And that made three halves. Whatever. There was a reason she was a guidance counselor, not a math teacher.

She was in the middle of attempting to get a particularly closed off student to talk to her when the end of the day bell rung and the aforementioned student bolted from the room. "Come back next week!" Buffy called to her retreating back.

Groaning, she dropped her head to her hands, rubbing her temples. "Rough day?" Dawn joked as she strolled into the room.

"I work with high schoolers. Every day's a rough one. What's up?"

"So, I was thinking..."

"Never a good thing."

Dawn glared. "Older sister here, Dawnie. I had to. Continue informing me of your thinky thoughts."

"I was hoping I could come with you to the Bronze tonight? Since Willow's coming home today?"

Buffy froze. Willow had spent the summer in England with some coven, learning to control her magic. She and Giles were getting back today, and Buffy had completely forgotten.

_God, I'm a horrible friend._

"Buffy?"

"Um... I'm not sure if we're going tonight. Willow will probably be pretty jet lagged, and I have class."

"Oh, okay," Dawn looked disappointed.

"But we're all having dinner tonight, and we can go to the Bronze sometime this weekend. You can definitely come, little bit."

This time they both froze. "I didn't - I mean... It just came out. I'm sorry."

Dawn gave a shaky smile. "It's okay. I know you miss him too."

Buffy nodded haltingly.

"I still can't believe he just vanished like that."

"Me neither." Lie.

"I know he left the crypt with Clem, but... Do you think he's okay?"

"I'm sure he's fine. He wouldn't do anything stupid." Lie.

"Do you have any idea why he would have left?"

"No." Lie.

"I'm sorry. I just miss him, you know?"

"I know. I do too."

Truth.

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Buffy sent Dawn home with instructions to do her homework. She finished a paper that was due and started walking home. As she passed the bakery, she decided to pick up dessert. Over the past few months she'd figured out that the more happy seeming things you do - learn to drive, go shopping, buy a chocolate cake - the more people believed you really were happy.

She finished the walk home and was headed to the kitchen when Dawn called, "Buffy? Can you come in here?"

Buffy frowned. "What's wrong?"

As she entered the living room however, that was made apparent. Dawn, Tara, Giles, Willow and Angel all stood around an extremely irritated Spike. Who was tied to a chair.

"What the hell?"


	3. Chapter 3

**_I don't want to be the one who has to fill the silence_**

**_The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth_**

**_Please don't tell me that we had this conversation_**

**_I won't remember, save your breath_**

**_'Cause what's the use_**

**_\- Sober, Pink_**

What Spike got out of Angel; the current slayers name was Buffy Anne Summers, she lived on the Sunnydale hellmouth, she was called seven years ago, right after Spikes memories stopped, and she hadn't been a potential.

What Spike didn't get out of Angel; what she had to do with him, what she had to do with his memories, how Angel knew her, why they were going to see her, and what was a "chip"? Spike was guessing he wasn't talking about french fries.

So here they were, their tinted-windowed car rolling down… suburbia. The famous hellmouth, the Masters very own prison, and little girls were playing tag inside white picket fences. It was equally disappointing and amusing. Hell, there was even a faded Welcome to Sunnydale sign as you entered town. Spike fought down the urge to ask Angel to run it over.

Eventually, Angel parked in front of a pretty, two story white house. At four o'clock in the afternoon. "So, what? We just hurry up to the door and politely ask to come in before we burn?"

Angel gave him an odd look. "We're already invited," he said, as though it were perfectly obvious that two master vampires, half the scourge of Europe, would have standing invitations to their mortal enemy's home.

"Let me guess - we go over for tea and biscuits every Sunday."

Angel smirked, "Hot chocolate, actually." Spike got the impression his grandsire was referencing something he should understand. Spike felt like he was going to get that impression a lot.

oOo

He knew it. They weren't invited. Well, Angel was. He wasn't. Not that it surprised him or anything - he was the slayer of slayers, for gods sake. This girl was probably terrified of him. The soul was the only reason Angel was allowed in - the girl was taking pity on him. And he wasn't jealous that his grandsire got yet another thing he didn't. He didn't even want this. Well, he'd like his memories back. And to get out of the sun that was threatening to burn a hole in his precious leather jacket while Angel went to "grab Buffy so she could invite him in".

"Come in! Oh my God, come in come in come in, like, now!" a girls voice rung through the house out to where he was standing. Ducking inside, he barely had time to close the door behind him before a little brunnette launched herself at him, squeezing him tight around the middle.

"Oh, thank God, do you have any idea how worried we all were? I mean, not Xander, but me and Willow and Tara and Buffy and Anya and even Giles! I wanted to go looking for you but Buffy said you'd obviously left of your own free will, and I knew she was right, but she was weirdly insistent about it, and - did you two get into another fight? Is that why you left?" the girl pulled back, and she looked sad all of a sudden. Spike just stared at her in wide eyed shock.

"Dawn," Angel interrupted, "step away from him. He doesn't have the chip anymore."

The girl - Dawn - looked mutinous. Didn't like Peaches much, apparently. Smart kid. "So? That doesn't matter."

"He doesn't have the chip," Angel repeated, "and he doesn't remember the last seven years."

"I - I mean What?! How could you even say that? It's ridiculous! You remember me, don't you, Spike?"

The vampire in question arched an eyebrow, "Sorry Pet. Did I try to eat you once?"

"No! I mean, yes, but no! How can you not remember?"

"I'd like to know the same thing myself. So maybe one of you should get to explaining, before I start to get hungry," he said, flashing his fangs, but not going into full game face. Dawn looked unimpressed.

"You don't remember anything?"

"No, I don't. Who are you? Thought we were going to see the slayer."

"Buffy's at work. I'm her sister, Dawn. Which, by the way, you should know already. 'Cause we've known each other for ages," Dawn scolded him, walking back towards the main part of the house. He followed.

"Slayer has a kid sister?"

Dawn popped a piece of gum into her mouth. "Sorta. It's a long story."

"I've got time."

"Well, it used to be her and mom and Hank - our dad, unfortunately - but then Buffy got called and they split up. Buffy got kicked out of school -"

"Why?"

"Lothos."

"The vampire Lothos?"

"Yeah. She trapped him and his minions in the gym and burnt it to the ground. It was epic."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Nice."

"Anyway, than she and mom moved here, lots of stuff happened, Glory showed up. She was a hell-god, and she was going to open a portal and end the world, but she needed this glowy mystical ball of energy called the Key to do it. So a bunch of monks did a spell and created me, hid the Key in me, and gave everyone fake memories of me so Buffy would protect me and the Key."

"Seriously?"

"No lie. It happened," Dawn swore.

"Dawnie! You home yet?" called a female voice from the direction of the door. Dawns face lit up.

"Tara! Tara, get in here, you'll never guess what happened!" turning to Spike, she added, "She'll be so glad to see you. Tara's Willows girlfriend."

Well, judging by the expression on the gentle looking woman's face when she saw him, glad wasn't making an appearance. Relief, maybe. Anger, sorrow, confusion and pain, definitely. Even a little hatred, mixed with an even more miniscule amount of pity and understanding. Not gladness. "Spike... You're back."

Dawn, seeming not to notice Tara's confliction, beamed. "Isn't it unbelievable?"

"Unbelievable is the word," she said softly, still staring at him.

Angel, who up until now had kept silent, asked quietly, "Aren't you forgetting something, Dawn?"

"Oh, yeah," Dawns smile faded as she told her about Spike's memory loss.

"I see," Tara's face was unreadable. "Dawnie, have you called Giles yet? He might know what to do."

"I'll do that now." Dawn hopped up and ran into the other room. Tara turned to Angel.

"Maybe go with her? He'll have questions..." Angel nodded and left the room, leaving Spike alone with the girl. She sighed. "Why are you here?" she asked sadly.

Spike was confused by the question. "Angel brought me here."

"I know what you did. Obviously, Dawn doesn't. Look, I know that things didn't work out... I know you didn't want it to be like this, and you want to make it better, but can't you see being here will only make it worse?"

Spike just looked at her blankly. "Pretending it didn't happen won't just make it go away, Spike!" she said impatiently, as though he were being an idiot.

"Wait - you think I'm faking it?" he realized.

"Aren't you?"

"No!"

"Oh."

"Oh is right. What were you talking about?"

Tara looked uncomfortable. "That's... not really my story to tell."

"Are you bleeding serious right now?"

Tara sighed. "Just - I don't even know. Just wait, okay? It's up to Buffy."

"Bloody hell."

Dawn and Angel returned, stopping him from pressing the issue. "Giles says to tie you up," Dawn announced.

Spike stared at her. "Are you kidding?"

"No. Sorry. He and Buffy don't really trust vampires. Hazard of their occupation. And you and Buffy kind of try to kill each other a lot. And honestly, Xander will try to stake you. And maybe so will Giles. And Wicklow's the one you always used to kidnap. So... things will go better if you aren't a threat."

Good God, could this get more humiliating? These two wisps of girls weren't even a little scared of him, Angel treated him like a joke (although, didn't he always?), and now they wanted to tie him up? "Don't suppose any of you will tell me what's going on?" he growled.

"As soon as Buffy gets home," Dawn reassured him. "She'll just like it better if you're tied up."

"Kinky," he muttered, surrendering to the ropes. Dawn snickered and Angel shot him a disgusted glare, but Tara went pale and looked at the ground. Huh.

Chalking it up to shyness, he continued grumbling, "_Angelus_ doesn't have to be tied up."

"I have a soul, _William_."

Dawn patted his shoulder sympathetically. "If it makes you feel better, nobody likes him."

"It does, actually," Spike snarked, "Thank you, Nibblet."

Behind him, Dawn froze. "What?"

"Um... I said thanks?"

"No," she hurried in front of him, "no, no. Nibblet. That's what you used to call me, remember? Tara, you heard that, right?"

Tara shook her head slowly. "Dawn, that nickname wasn't the result of an event, or inside joke, or anything. It was just a pet name based on your looks and personality. It makes sense, that meeting you for the "first" time..."

"He'd choose it again. Right," Dawn said with a wobbly smile. "No big."

An unexpected pang pulled at Spikes heartstrings. He liked this weird, human little girl. "Sorry. I'd remember if I could."

Dawn shrugged. "Not your fault."

oOo

Spike wasn't stupid. Far from it, actually - he'd gone to Oxford, after all (although he'd rather die than admit it). So he could figure out some of what had happened.

One; He knew the slayer.

Two; He tried to kill the slayer (several times) - as he should have.

Three; Somewhere along the way, something called a "chip" forced/made him want to help out the slayer. He was leaning towards forced.

Four; Something had happened. Something very, very bad that was his fault. And because of that he'd left town, without telling anyone. And Tara knew what it was. Dawn didn't, but seemed to think that it was a fight with the slayer. Tara had said it was up to Buffy to tell or not. So apperantly, he'd pissed her off.

Thank God he wasn't completely whipped.

Spike was tied to a chair in the middle of the room with Tara, Dawn, and Angel standing awkwardly when the front door opened and slammed shut. In hurried a pretty redhead and a middle aged man. The girl kissed Tara and hugged Dawn. "We came as fast as we could." Turning, she looked at Spike cautiously. "Hello. I'm Willow. This is Giles. Do you remember us?"

"No, but apparently I kidnapped you a lot."

Willow smiled. "Try it again and I'll get to practice giving people brain aneurisms."

Spike grinned back at her. "I like you."

"Have you told Buffy he's back yet?" Giles asked. Dawn shook her head.

"No, she's at work and not picking up her phone. She'll be home soon, though." Right as she finished talking, the door opened yet again and footsteps clicked around, accompanied by a voice quietly humming. There was a moment of silence, then, "Buffy?" Dawn called. "Can you come in here?"

"What's wrong?" A girl in her early twenties appeared in the doorway and froze. She was tiny and blonde, wearing a little white suit and professional looking black heels.

"What the hell?"

Huh. Looked like Dawn was right about that fight.

**AN: Yes? No? Maybe so? Let me know! I'm shutting up now...**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Little baby update because I have a weakness for season two!Spike and Buffy and Spike constantly bitching at one another. Sorry it took a while.**

_**Sometimes I hate every single stupid word you say**_

_**Sometimes I wanna slap you in your whole face**_

_**There's no one quite like you**_

_**You push all my buttons down**_

_**I know life would suck without you**_

_**\- True Love, Pink**_

_He wasn't supposed to come back._

That was all Buffy could think as she stared at her former lover (Except lovers don't cry and scream and hate themselves and each other and blame the alcohol they didn't drink the morning after, do they? Enemies with benefits,)

But he was never supposed to come back. Even it the worst scenarios she came up with (Falling in love with him, him falling out of love with her, and _what if she hadn't been able to stop him?_) she never had to see him again. Not tied up in her living room, looking bored, amused, and mischievous all at once. Like he didn't even care. Like he was the same person she met five years ago.

Maybe he'd never changed.

"What is - why is - I mean…. huh?" Eloquent, Buffy. Really.

Spike smirked, and Buffy wanted to march up to him and punch him in the face. Only, she also wanted to burst into tears and scream at him and kiss him senseless and just turn around and walk out of the room, all at the same time, so she stayed silent and still and kind of just looked at him. And Dawn was talking, rambling on and not making any sense at all.

"Angel? Giles?" she cut Dawn off, turning to the men for a hopefully more coherent answer.

"He has amnesia," Giles said simply. "Not a single memory of the last seven years. His memories stop right before you come in."

Buffy frowned. "We only met five years ago." she pointed out.

"Yes, but you were called seven years ago," Angel threw in. "His last memory is of finding out the previous slayer was dead. Can you think of any reason somebody would want to make him forget you?"

Buffy hesitated, Tell them, a little voice in the back of her head urged. Let them hate him as much as you do. Except a louder, larger part of her cried in panic, they'll kill him! you can't let him die, you lo - are not going there, Buffy cut herself off abruptly. And now I'm having arguments with myself. Great.

"... Buffy?" Tara asked quietly. Buffy could hear her unspoken question.

"No, sorry. No clue," she answered finally.

"Wonderful!" Honestly, Buffy was surprised he managed to stay quiet for so long. Patience wasn't Spike's strong suit. "That's just fabulous! Now that we've determined that none of you have any bloody idea what's going on - something I could have told you the moment I got here, because you're clearly all sodding morons - would somebody please tell me what the hell I've been doing the past seven years?!"

Buffy's temper flared. "Yeah? Well, maybe if you hadn't been dumb enough to go and get all your memories erased, we wouldn't have to!"

"Listen here, you stupid, shallow little -" Spike began, outraged, but Giles cut him off.

"Well, I would say that little scene there is a fairly good approximation of what you two have done any time you've ever been in the same room," he snapped. "Now, are you done behaving like children?"

Buffy crossed her arms and pouted in a particularly childish way, and had Spike been able to remember it, he would have thought she looked an awful lot like her sixteen year old self. "I guess it's storytime then, " she grumbled sarcastically. Sitting on the couch, she leaned forward. "God knows what you were doing for the first two years, but….'

oOo

"Why would I help you? I just met you, and I already hate you more than him."

"The feeling's mutual, _believe_ me. And I've had years to get used to you."

oOo

"Oh, I came back? Yes, because I'm _sure_ I missed you terribly."

"Actually, it's because your girlfriend's a ho."

"Hey! Take that back!"

oOo

"Did they fight this much before?"

"Yeah. You know how they get. Dynomite, meet matches."

oOo

"Wait, Buffy! you forgot the Will Be Done spell."

"No, I left it out on purpose because it was _awful_.'

"Why? What happened? Tell me!"

oOo

"Oh god, that sounds awful."

"I _told_ you. Besides, You clearly got the better end of the bargain - I had to be engaged to _you_."

"Bitch."

oOo

"Oh, _finally_. Something I might actually do."

"Adam nearly killed us!"

"I've no doubt I was right disappointed when he didn't."

oOo

"Buffy, you left out -"

"No, I didn't Dawn."

"Yes, you -"

"I haven't left out anything important."

"But…."

oOo

"She can't just not tell him he's in love with her, Tara!"

"Leave it be, for now."

"Why should I?"

"Because the way she's looking at him? That's more emotion than I've seen from her in months, even if it is anger. Leave them be. They'll figure it out."

"Think so?"

"Eventually…. probably."


End file.
